


How to Get Out of Paperwork … The Hard Way

by Bastet5



Series: The Wild Hunt [23]
Category: FBI: Most Wanted (TV 2020)
Genre: Gen, Hostage Situations, Paperwork, Starbucks, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26976469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bastet5/pseuds/Bastet5
Summary: September 2018Paperwork, the bane of many cops' and feds' existence. Paperwork, made only slightly more bearable by good company and LOTS of coffee.On a coffee run for the team before a mind-numbingly boring day of paperwork, Kateri finds herself alone in the midst of a situation she would usually boggle at a news headline about: a robbery in a Starbucks a stone throw's from Federal Plaza.Or, in other words, one way to get out of paperwork ... the hard way: get yourself taken hostage.
Relationships: Clinton Skye & Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Wild Hunt [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678864
Comments: 17
Kudos: 9





	How to Get Out of Paperwork … The Hard Way

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the much longer-than-usual delay since I last posted. Real life and real life responsibilities were quite pressing this week with multiple evening engagements that took time away from what little time each day I have to write, so posting this story unfortunately had to be delayed. Hope you enjoy!

There were good things and bad things about wrapping up a case and getting to finally go home, sometimes after a week or two … or very occasionally, _thankfully_ … more away from home. On the upside, whoever the team had been hunting was either dead or in custody. Either way that meant that the fugitive was no longer a threat to society, but Kateri was always glad when a case ended without the need for lethal force, without more blood being shed. Also, on the upside, the team got to go home, back to their own places, back to their own beds, back to their own families, back to their own daily routines.

 _And as much as I like my team, even I sometimes want a break after a couple weeks in each other’s pocket’s, and I definitely want to sleep in my own bed, not in a motel bed, not in a car, not on the floor of the bus, not in the bus’ bunks_.

The downside of finishing a case? Paperwork. Nobody liked paperwork, but Jess was a firm believer in just getting it over with, so get it over with they would.

It was a bright Wednesday morning in September. A little too bright, but thankfully not too early, considering that the team had gotten back from their latest case Monday night … _no, no, no, no it was Tuesday morning. Very early Tuesday morning. Very, very early_. Everyone had been simply exhausted after 10 days in the field, and the rest of Tuesday had been spent recuperating. Jess was not an ogre or a slave driver, and _he would have wanted to come back in on Tuesday about as much as the rest of us would_. Kateri herself had fallen into bed about 2am and hadn’t emerged from her cocoon of covers until past noon. Except when she was sick, she usually got up sometime between 6 and 8am depending on the day.

But by Wednesday, it was time to get the paperwork done.

 _Ugh. I hate paperwork At least I got a full eight hours in bed!_ Though she was still tired from the long case, a good night’s sleep made the thought of braving paperwork less odious … slightly.

Kateri’s phone buzzed as she was exiting off the RFK Bridge into Manhattan. Traffic on the bridge had been, as usual, somewhat slow with the usual compliment of crazy drivers, making Kateri glad for her new Bluetooth ear piece.

_Hands-free systems are the best._

“Wood here.”

“That’s the greeting I get now?” Kenny’s voice was mock offended.

_Oh, Kenny!_

Kateri smirked and rolled her eyes. “I just got off the RFK Bridge, Kenny. Not exactly looking at my caller ID right now lest I get myself into a car accident and give you all more grey hairs. What do you need?”

There was a wry snort at that. “It’s your turn to pick up coffee to get us through this round of suffering,” Kenny responded, “I thought it was my turn, but Hana says it’s yours.”

_Uh, good to know._

_Kinda forgot where in the rotation we were._

The team survived doing paperwork and finishing long hunts by drinking copious amounts of coffee … or in Jess’ case, tea. They took turns bringing in coffee to work on paperwork days, the money for which was taken from a communal stash.

“Thanks. I’d lost track of where we were in the rotation. Tell Jess or Clinton I’ll be a few minutes later than usual, would you?” Kateri replied.

“I will. I’ll be there in a few anyway.”

_You’re more with it than I am this morning._

_Ah, well, you thought you had to get coffee._ Depending on the lines at whatever coffee spot one chose to stop, getting coffee for five people could take a bit. (Jess did not slum to drink the sorry excuse for tea that Starbucks and some other coffee shops served. There was hot water at HQ and a box of real tea bags on top of the fridge.)

“Thanks.”

“Sure.” There was a muffled curse from over the phone and then a loud honking horn. “What is it about New York and idiot drivers?”

_Is that a rhetorical question?_

“Bustling metropolis are a breeding ground for in-a-hurry, impatient people?” Kateri mused, navigating around a particularly slow driver in the left lane of FDR Drive.

Kenny gave a snort that was almost a growl.

“Be glad you’ve not been down in DC like me. I think traffic might actually be worse there. Both are awful either way,” Kateri added, “Congestion, construction, and impatience are universal.”

 _Yet another reason to be glad that my side-jobs got ended_.

Kenny was in a mood to chat, so the conversation continued for the rest of Kateri’s drive down the length of Manhattan. He did most of the talking, but she was happy to listen while she drove and put in her two-cents worth from time to time. They were still talking when Kateri parked in the parking lot of a Starbuck’s near HQ and climbed out. She passed this Starbuck’s anyway driving in, and it was only about a quarter mile away from HQ ( _as the crow flies_ ), though it took longer to wind her way through the streets while driving.

Despite the day and the hour, the Starbucks was surprisingly less crowded than usual. There was the usual mix of students from the nearby high school, blue-collar workers from surrounding places, and white-collar workers from City Hall and Federal Plaza. There were two people in line ahead of her and maybe ten or so more in the rest of the store, not counting workers.

The slamming of car doors and distant voices through her ear piece signaled when Kenny reached HQ just as Kateri was stepping up to the counter. She was glad of his presence as she ordered, since trying to remember five separate coffee orders got … _complicated_ … and he had to correct her once when she was misremembering.

 _Black coffee is just so much simpler_.

“Thanks for the help. I should be there in ten minutes or so.”

“Sounds good,” Kenny replied, “Just in time, too. Rouse Hana from her zombie state.”

“Hahaha, very funny,” Hana’s voice came distantly through the speaker.

Kateri chuckled. _Oh, Kenny. Really?_ Silence returned over the phone line, and after a few minutes she wondered if Kenny had hung up on her, but the background noise made her finally realize that the line was still running, but that he must have just set his phone down without turning it off.

Her name being called from the direction of the counter drew Kateri’s mind back from her wandering thoughts to the present. “Coffee’s on its way.”

“Hurray,” it was Hana’s voice, not Kenny’s, “KC went to the armory and forgot he’d left his phone running.”

Stepping towards the counter, Kateri opened her mouth to respond to Hana’s comment, but then a commutation began straight behind her, coming from what had to be the direction of the shop door. No more than second passed, and then the barista’s eyes went wide in alarm … and terror. Instinct had Kateri spinning around to face the threat head on.

_Gun!_

_Bloody h**l_.

Handguns in hand, two young men had just entered the store. Kateri surveilled the scene in a split second as she whirled, analyzing the scene to see what if anything she could do and cataloging the perpetrators for clues. Both men were either in their upper teens or lower 20s. Both were tall and sturdy, but their faces were still youthful, which _makes me think they’re younger than sheer size indicates_. One was Hispanic. The other was Caucasian. The Hispanic boy had a gang tat on his neck that Kateri did not recognize, _which is concerning—I thought I knew all the gangs in this area_ —but both boys looked like kids in over their heads, not hardened criminals, thugs. _That could be good or bad._

Their guns were already out and covering the customers, including Kateri, by the time she realized the threat. _If I try to draw, I’ll get shot. Bloody h**l_.

_Robbing a Starbucks near Federal Plaza?_

_It’s insane._

“Hands in the air!” The Caucasian boy shouted.

“Kat, what’s going on?” Hana’s voice had gone pointed, sharp with worry. The command must have been audible over the telephone line, and Kateri had never been so thankful for both her Bluetooth earpiece and her decision to leave her hair down that morning, meaning it now covered her ears.

The gun moved toward Kateri who had made the most visible sudden movement and was one of the one’s nearest the door.

“Kat!”

_Quiet!_

With a silent prayer Kateri threw up her hands into the air and stuttered-step backwards, letting a look of fear cross her face. (Kateri was not really afraid, not yet anyway. She had been in much, much worse scrapes with this, _though this is certainly unique. Robbing Starbucks … bloody h**l_.) “I don’t want no trouble,” she let her voice shake just a tad. It was the work of a split-second to dredge up and copy Billy’s accent, “Just here for my coffee on my way to work.”

Hana was swearing a blue streak. “Boss,” the yell was muffled.

_Please don’t let them notice my ear piece._

_If they do, there’s going to be a big problem._

_If they don’t, the cops have a line in._

“Get over there,” Hispanic boy yelled, indicating with his gestures with his gun that all the customers were to move to one side of the storefront and away from the door.

With some screaming and lots of crying, the workers and customers moved as commanded. Kateri was the last to move across. _So much for a slow, boring, quiet day doing paperwork. I hate paperwork, but I’d rather it than this_.

“What’s going on?” That sounded like Jess’ voice, but it was still muffled.

 _Probably speakerphone but hand over microphone_.

Kateri took a seat at one of the tables, deliberately placing herself in front of a young teenager, _who probably really should be in school right now_. Kateri had never been one for skipping classes herself and figured that this kid probably wouldn’t be either after this.

_Hispanic boy shall be christened Billy the Kid, and Caucasian boy shall be christened Clyde._

“Starbucks … Kat … robbed … now,” Hana’s voice seemed almost incredulous.

Clyde started riffling through the register looking for cash, while Billy the Kid pulled his backpack off his shoulder and started yelling for wallets, jewelry, watches, phones, and laptops, waving the gun around as he did so.

_Both have semi-automatics. Look like Glocks, but didn’t get a good look._

_Probably mid-size. Depending on caliber that means … about 30 rounds between them, if they don’t have extra mags._

More snatches of conversation came through the ear piece, isolated words only, not enough to distinguish voices.

“Where …”

“ … stone’s throw …”

Billy the Kid worked his way around the room slowly, and phone after phone, wallet and after wallet, jewelry and watches, and several laptops were placed into his bag. _They might make a haul after all_. _Decent haul, not a great one_. Most of the hostages were not the white-collar workers from nearby office buildings, including Wall Street, who were more likely to have more cash and nicer accessories on hand.

“… 911”

The tension in the room was high, but everyone was calm … for now, and neither Clyde nor Billy the Kid had made any overt threats besides the usual, as-to-be-expected gun-waving. Clyde seemed to have found less cash in the register than he wanted, but the other fruits of the robbery seemed to please him enough so that he wasn’t too upset.

_Billy’ll be to me in a minute._

_Three phones and one wallet … what to do?_

_Got Starbuck’s card for coffee and a little spare cash in my jacket pocket._

_I’ll flash my badge if I try to get to my wallet. Say I don’t have one?_

_Can give my personal phone … Good luck trying to get into that._ For security reasons, Kateri had about as complicated passwords on her phones as she could remember.

_Too much risk with the others…_

When Billy the Kid appeared before her, holding out the backpack with a repeated growl of his previous instructions— _I think he’s trying to sound tough_ —Kateri took her watch off—her necklace was hidden under her clothes--pulled out her personal phone from one of her pants pockets, the spare cash from her jacket, and even her Starbuck’s card for good measure.

“I said give me your wallet,” Billy the Kid growled, brandishing the gun.

“Don’t have it. Forgot my wallet at work yesterday. That’s all the cash I got.”

Billy frowned and growled some more but seemed to accept the story and stepped away. _Definitely not hardened/experienced criminals if he bought that line. Doesn’t mean this is any less dangerous. Could be a gang initiation thing?_

“Help’s on its way,” Clinton’s voice was soft but clear.

The two seemed to have collected most of what there was to collect, but neither seemed ready to leave yet. Clyde disappeared into the back, while Billy the Kid stayed in front to cover the hostages.

_What on earth are they doing?_

_What are they looking for?_

_Are you sticking around to make yourself coffee?_

_Bloody h**l, you’ve got your catch. Just go already._

Then Kateri realized. As far as these two morons knew, there had been no alarm, no chance for anyone to call 911, and no one else had entered the story in the last couple of minutes so there had been no commotion. _Are they looking for a safe or something in the back? Backpacks of the workers?_

A minute or two passed. Kateri was calm though puzzled, but some of her fellow hostages were not so calm. Being held hostage in a Starbucks didn’t rank even close to the worst scrapes she had been a part of in her career. A few of the women were in tears. One was almost in hysterics, and an older, calmer woman was trying to help her. Some of the men, especially two of the younger ones, were restless, occasionally giving side-eyes toward Billy the Kid.

_Don’t do anything stupid._

_More likely to get yourself killed than help the situation._

_If you don’t do anything stupid and the police don’t show up at an inopportune time, they’ll likely leave soon, the way Billy’s been glancing at his watch_.

Kateri’s thoughts seemed almost prophetic … but not in a good way. Within one more minute— _guessing only five, maybe six minutes, since this all started?_ —the wailing of sirens appeared and grew steadily closer and closer and closer.

Louder and louder and louder. 

Clyde appeared from the back, jumpy and jittery, and he and Billy the Kid started jabbering, almost yelling at each other, in Spanish. From her semi-regular interactions with Billy … _my Billy_ … as well as his crew and multiple other crews in New York City, Kateri could fake a Hispanic accent easily, _though I sound exactly like Billy’s_ , but could only understand a handful of words, aside from basic pleasantries, and then only if you didn’t jabber a mile a minute … _which they unfortunately are_.

Her partner’s voice came again in her ear, so soft that she almost struggled to hear him above the two robbers arguing, “One minute out.”

_Why couldn’t they be speaking French?_

_Why aren’t they leaving? Do they see something I can’t from this angle?_

_Or are they two of the dumbest crooks I’ve ever encountered?_

As the sirens got ever closer, Clyde disappeared again and then returned moments later carrying several bags in the hand not holding his gun. From the reactions of the Starbucks' workers, those were their bags. Clyde made for the door, Billy the Kid backing up to join him, keeping Kateri and the other hostages covered.

_Just a couple more steps, and then they’re out the door._

Kateri slowly eased her weight forward on her chair and let her left arm slip down to her side.

 _Just a few more steps_.

_Just a few more steps_

The Starbucks door was pulled open. Clyde made it through. Then Billy. And the door started to swing shut behind them, as Billy swiveled so his back was now towards them. Kateri rose to her feet, motioning to the others to stay down and low and quiet. There was no good cover elsewhere in the room, and the situation was not over yet.

_Not over until they’re caught or dead or far enough away not to hurt anyone._

_Others are probably out there by now._

_If I can still see ‘em, we’ve potentially got trouble._

Kateri pushed her jacket back, her hand going to her Glock where she could draw in an instant. The move exposed the badge on her waist, and a low murmur rose across the room.

“Why didn’t you do something before they stole our stuff?” Someone—a woman—hissed angrily.

_Because two on one, when they’ve got the drop on me, isn’t odds I like?_

_Because all of you are potential collateral?_

_Need I continue?_

“Quiet,” Kateri snapped back, “Now’s not the time.”

A soft murmur of voices, persons indistinguishable

Her words were reinforced moments later by the arrival of the police outside. Both Clyde and Billy the Kid had not had time to flee already—they were still within a stone’s throw and a bad stone’s throw at that of the store—and with the cops blocking their escape route forward, the two erstwhile robbers tried to retreat back into the store. Burdened down by bags but several steps first in front of but now behind his partner, Clyde suddenly went down hard. _Taser? No gunshot_. But Billy, who had been somewhat behind and now ahead of his less lucky companion, managed to stumble back through the door of the Starbucks and make it back inside to what he thought would be shelter.

“One down,” Clinton’s voice.

Kateri had been watching the two’s every move with experienced eyes and seen immediately when Billy turned back. By the time Billy made it through the door and actually looked up and around, his movements frantic and almost panicked, he was met with a gun pointing straight at him from across the room.

“FBI. Put the gun down, and don’t move,” Kateri ordered, no trace of her earlier Spanish accent in her words.

Billy’s dark eyes went wide, blown wide, the hand with the gun shaking with the force of his panic.

_Just let that gun stay down. Just let it stay down._

_You’re just a kid. I don’t want to have to shoot you._

_The way your hand’s shaking, if you tried to shoot me, you’d as likely hit the others_.

“You’re a Fed???!!!” Billy almost screeched the words, his voice breaking in the middle, not with the emotions but with the break that came with a young man’s changing voice. _Bloody h**l, he is young._ Kateri was forced to move her age estimate downwards, which only reinforced her desire for the situation to end peacefully.

“We’re just next door,” Kateri’s voice was dry.

“Hana’s into the security feeds,” Jess’ voice was calm.

Muffled voices in the background.

“No one’s been hurt,” Kateri’s voice was calm and unruffled, a little calmer than she was feeling inside. _No backup, no body armor, and a whole lot of potential collateral damage._ “Just put the gun down.”

 _No room for error on this_.

“She’ll have an ID for your perp soon, hopefully,” Jess again.

Someone shifted behind her. _Stay down. Stay down. Don’t get in the way_. One of the worse things that could happen at that moment was if someone got antsy or decided to try to play hero and spooked Billy the Kid.

 _I can handle this._ There was the slight hint in her thoughts that she was trying to convince herself of that fact. She had grown used to backup, backup closer than the other side of a phone call.

More voices, including Clinton. _Arguing?_

“Just put the gun down, and nobody has to get hurt.”

“We’ll feed you what information we can, and I’m on the line if you need help.”

_Please. Just listen to me._

Billy the Kid was moving like he had ants on his pants, jitterily looking around, shifting from foot to foot, glancing back outside. _Is he on drugs?_ _Bloody h**l, I hope not_. A perp on drugs only made everything more complicated. _Harder to subdue. Harder to reason with_. Some local gangs had their drug of choice, but Kateri wasn’t even sure what gang this kid was with.

 _Hopefully his neck tat’s visible on a camera_.

_Could just by hyped up on nerves and adrenaline. Bloody h**l, I hope so._

“Hey, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me,” Kateri pressed slightly. Negotiating wasn’t her forte— _that’s the boss’ bailiwick_ —and she was wary of agitating an already agitated perp further, _since I should be able to drop him before he gets a shot off, but I really don’t want to have to_. “You haven’t done anything that can’t be made right. No one’s hurt, so let’s end this peacefully. Just put the gun down.”

“I can’t. Gotta prove myself.” Finally, there was a reply out of Billy the Kid

_Okay. A response I can work with._

_Silence, I can’t._

“Okay,” it was Hana’s voice, but the background noise indicated the phone was on speaker, “your perp is Juan Lopez, 16.”

 _Bloody h**l_. _Confirmation he’s just a kid_.

“Prove yourself to whom? I can’t help you, help resolve this situation if you don’t talk to me,” Kateri pressed again carefully.

As she spoke, Kateri glanced around quickly, keeping the majority of her attention focused on Billy— _Juan_ —but trying to stay aware of the whole situation inside and outside. The other hostages— _former hostages?_ —were mainly still and quiet, which was good. There were a number of cops gathered outside, but the presence of Jess, mainly, would hopefully keep them back for the moment and give Kateri a chance to resolve the situation.

 _If it comes to that, I can neutralize the threat before they could, since I don’t think Clinton’s out there with his rifle_.

Hana again, “Just moved to New York from San Antonio 6 months ago.”

“Juvie record. Still trying to get details, but he did run with a small, local street gang.”

_Of course, he did. Explains the tat on his neck, probably._

_Why couldn’t it be someplace else besides here that I actually know something about gang-wise?_

_Just my luck_.

Juan shook his head hard.

 _Prove himself. Probably means this is an initiation thing. He’s got to prove himself to be accepted into a new crew_.

 _This as a test, though, someone’s off their rocker_ …

 _If I knew where he lived, I could make a guess at what gang he might be trying to join_.

“Whatever you came here to do, you’re not going to be able to finish it. Why don’t you let the others go? Anyone else’ll just get in the way. We can talk this out just the two of us.”

 _And the voices in my ear_.

_I can also talk more freely without other listening ears._

Juan was, thankfully, agreeable to that suggestion, and a few minutes later, the other hostages were sent out to the cries from the waiting officers of “hostages coming out,” clearing the inside of the Starbucks except for the two of them. Juan had been forced to take several steps back to allow the hostages to pass him and get out the door, which gave Kateri room to take a couple of steps forward which put her in better view of the windows, though she kept her back to the window as much as humanly possible while still facing Juan head on. The move was a calculated risk, making her more visible to her teammates but also to any news camera … if the situation had attracted that much attention. _Really don’t want my face on the news_. That could blow any potential for undercover work with the team sky-high. _Less of a risk of that getting me killed._

_Focus!_

“I see you.” It was her partner’s voice.

_Hana must have done something to splice the audio in comms since I can hear multiple of them at once._

_Probably not just speaker-phone. Hana wouldn’t be as close to the action as Clinton is, not while she’s on her computer doing searches_.

Keeping her attention forward, forcing herself not to sigh or relax at her partner’s words, Kateri made a small motion with her left foot—the sign for okay/acknowledged—moving it parallel to her body and then back into line with her right foot.

“Copy, kid.”

 _Good. Now we can communicate._ The physical signs she could make were limited, but it was at least something. _Anything’s better than nothin’._ Kateri had no idea if she wanted to reveal the ear piece she wore directly or indirectly by calling Juan by name.

_No idea how’d he react …_

_Collateral’s out of the way, but I don’t fancy risk getting shot if I can help it_.

“What will it take for you to put the gun down?” Kateri asked finally a few minutes after the hostages had departed. Juan was moving restlessly, his gun still vaguely pointed in her direction. _We’re not close enough for me to take him down before he could bring the gun up_. _Don’t fancy getting shot today_.

There was some sort of muttered response, but it was in Spanish and half-under his breath, and Kateri could only catch 1 word in 10. Even if she could understand most every word, she still wouldn’t have understood what he was saying.

“Hey, I need you to speak in English. No hablo español.”

_Why couldn’t it be French? I could talk all day in French._

_Probably’d drive the NYPD crazy because most wouldn’t understand zilch_.

“I can’t,” the boy snapped back … this time in English, “I want a car.”

 _Getaway demands. Of course_.

“He doesn’t have any leverage here.” Jess inserted quietly in her ear.

_Juan’s decision was good for us. Not so good for him._

_Got rid of antsy people who might do something stupid._

_But got rid of his leverage._

_Might just not have realized that yet._

_He’s young, not good at this life yet._

_Thank God. Still time to get out of that life._

“No hostages. You can drop him before he could shoot you.”

 _I think. Not really interesting in testing that assumption_.

“Can’t do that,” Kateri replied simply, calmly, “This is a gang initiation, right? What crew are you trying to join?”

_One of the dumbest gang initiations I’ve ever heard of, but …_

Juan’s face soured, and he shifted uneasily from foot to foot. _Just a kid so far in over his head he can’t even see daylight through the water_.

“If you feel he’s an imminent threat, take the shot.”

 _Yes, boss, I know. Rather’d avoid that_.

_Don’t want a kid’s death on my conscious._

One on one things like this were not Kateri’s wheel-house by any stretch of the imagination. Negotiating was not her thing. It was disconcertingly strange to be the only one here without backup— _that I can see. If Clinton’s out there with his rifle, I wouldn’t be surprise_ d—and she was glad for Jess’ voice in her ear. _He’s better at this negotiating stuff than I am_.

“The Crew.”

The capital T, capital C was clear from his tone of voice, and there was only one gang in New York City who one could refer to that way and still be perfectly sure that anyone who knew much of anything about NYC gangs would still know whom you were talking about.

The Underground Crew.

For a moment Kateri could almost feel her brain screech to a grinding halt.

_Billy, either you’re expanding and haven’t told me, or you really need to keep a better eye on what your underlings are doing._

_Bloody h**l, this is the most insane, dumbest plan ever to come from the Crew._

_What the h**l are you or your people thinking??????_

As quickly as her brain had screeched to a halt for a split second, it then sped up to a lightening pace. This was the vital clue, the opening Kateri had been waiting for.

A semblance of a plan formulated in seconds, but it necessitated talking to the outside, _since none of us no sign language, and even if I did, that wouldn’t work with only one hand free._

“Boss, can anyone hear me beside you all?”

There was an explosion of voices at Kateri’s decision to break cover.

“You’ve been talking to the cops?” Juan exploded, the gun coming up, his grip tightening.

_I am a cop … welllll, fed, but close enough for this conversation._

The rather loud reaction, Kateri had been expecting. There was no good way around it, and Kateri needed to risk it to speak with her teammates.

“No,” Kateri clarified quickly, her finger moving back onto the trigger as she double-checked her sight picture, “I was talking to one of my teammates before this whole bloody mess started. We were discussing coffee orders before I went to the office to do bloody paperwork all bloody morning. He just forgot to hang up on me.”

 _Bloody h**l, that was close_.

Juan’s gun that had come up some lowered, and Kateri relaxed a fraction and moved her finger back off the trigger. _Keep your finger off the trigger unless you’re prepared to fire_.

“No. Just us. We’re the NYPD’s ear in,” Jess’ voice was tight and gruff.

“And we just kicked them out, but what the h**l are you about to do?” Kenny’s voice.

“What needs to be done.”

“We’ve got to trust her on this,” it was Clinton’s voice. From the noise level he was outside, not in a car or other building.

Kateri took a deep breath, “Juan, I’m going to be very blunt with you. There are only three ways you get out of this coffee shop: walking out in cuffs, carried out on a stretcher with a bullet in you, or schlepped out in a body bag.”

_This isn’t the Lone Ranger. If we shoot, we shoot to stop the threat._

_There’s no shooting guns out of people’s hands._

_We stop the threat, and that often means you end up dead_.

A hint of fear entered the boy’s eyes before it was buried under teenage bravado. _You’re in over your head, and you’re trying to cover it because you want to be Crew and you think Crew don’t back down_. “I could take you out with me!”

“I’ve got the shot,” it was Clinton’s voice again.

_He’s full of talk for now._

_Gun didn’t come up_.

“Let me play this out as long as I can,” Kateri spoke first in Mohawk, a message for her partner. She didn’t want Juan understanding what she was saying.

“Copy, kid.”

“What’d she say?” Jess asked a second late.

“You could try,” Kateri assented, switching back into English, “but if you want to join the Crew, you need to learn two things,” _since you might not have learned ‘em yet_. “First, Billy Suarez has no patience with cop-killers on his crew. Cop-killing is bad for business,”— _and being bad for business in his eyes isn’t good for your life expectancy_ —“Second, a nice dramatic death that makes the front page of the news is also bad for business. Dead thugs are no use to him. Live to fight another day. Don’t get yourself killed for the sake of getting yourself killed because you don’t want to surrender to the cops.”

_And Feds fall under the cop/law-enforcement banner._

_And that doesn’t even start with what will happen to you if you come after me._

_After which I might be dead, but hey, we’d get Billy, too, ‘cause he’d be giving the order for that._

Her words seemed to stun Juan into silence for a few moments, before he asked, voice and face skeptical, “And how would you know anything about the Crew and the Viper?"

 _Really, Billy, that’s the most ridiculous, pretentious moniker_.

The name always made her want to snicker.

_I wonder who came up with that moniker._

The question then was: _how much do I reveal?_ Kateri decided to err on the side of caution, “We knew each other back in the day, long time ago, and you can’t spend much time in law enforcement in the city and not learn a few things about Billy Suarez.”

Even the worst of people had family. Even the worst of people usually had some friends once upon a time.

There were very, very, very few people who were totally islands in and to themselves.

Kateri paused, choosing her final words carefully, “The question you have to think about right now is: how you want this to end? You’re young. You’ve got a lot of years left that you could live profitably. No one’s been hurt yet, so do you want to walk out of here in one piece, or do you want to be carted out of here?”

“Easy. Don’t go too hard,” Jess warned.

 _Yes, boss, but I need him to sit up, listen, and think_.

The two stood facing each other for a long minute, and Kateri, her heart pounding in her throat, could almost see the wheels in Juan’s head turning and turning and turning. Finally, his shoulders sagged; his grip on his gun relaxed; and his arm lowered the rest of the way to the floor.

“Good. Put the gun down on the floor slowly and then get down spread-eagle on the floor.”

_Almost done._

_Don’t relax too soon_.

“NYPD’s moving in,” Jess said.

Kateri didn’t verbally acknowledge the update, her attention still focused on Juan who was slowly— _as appropriate_ —following her instructions. As much as instinct would be to look left, she kept her attention on the here and now. Last minute mistakes could still get you killed, even when the situation SEEMED almost over.

Juan was down on the floor.

The bell over the door rattled.

Backup had arrived.

With backup present, Juan was quickly searched and handcuffed, and finally Kateri was able to relax and holster her gun. Less an hour had passed since the whole situation had begun. It felt like a whole lot longer.

 _Bloody, bloody h**l_.

Kateri watched as Juan was taken away by NYPD officers. After they exited, Kenny and Jess entered and made a beeline for Kateri.

Kenny reached her in several long strides and pulled her into a rough hug. “I think you gave us all grey hair with that one,” his voice was almost dead serious with just the barest hint of a teasing lilt, though one look at his face showed the stress of the past hour.

“Wrong place, wrong time,” Kateri replied, sinking into his embrace with a sigh, “Thanks for the assist.”

 _Nice not to feel alone, even if I was physically alone_.

Jess nodded, “We can debrief later, and you’ll need to give your statement. Right now, we need to get you out before the press can get your picture. You were angled away from the window just enough, and the NYPD didn’t let anyone close.”

“Don’t want to blow your undercover personas sky high,” Kenny finished.

Kateri snorted wryly, “That would be a bloody disaster.” She took a deep breath that shuddered just slightly. Her hands were shaking slightly as the adrenaline wore off. She stuffed them into the pockets of her jacket.

 _Clinton must be packing up_.

“Make sure you end the call if you haven’t already before I run your phone bill up any higher,” said Kateri in a minute later as her two teammates shepherded her out the backdoor—service entrance—of the Starbucks, an entrance that she hadn’t even down existed.

_Why didn’t Billy and Clyde use it, I wonder?_

_Maybe they didn’t see it?????_

_Too big a hurry????_ But then she realized it, she had been watching Billy and Clyde for every moment they were visible, and unless there was another back hallway she’d missed, they hadn’t gone down the right hallway to get to the service door. _That or there is a door, but they just missed it. Wouldn't be the first time_.

Kenny chuckled, “Already did as we were heading in, and my plan’s unlimited.”

 _Convenient_.

There were more hugs and back slaps when the team reformed at their meeting room downstairs in HQ. Apparently, with possible help from those upstairs, Jess had somehow talked/bullied the NYPD into having the interview/Kateri giving her statement in FBI territory, instead of her having to go to the station or out front with all the news cameras.

_Because I’m very bloody sure this is plastered all over the bloody news._

_A bloody hostage situation in a bloody Starbucks! I_

_just walked into one of the bloody headlines I bloody goggle over any time I see it_.

“That’s one way to get us out of paperwork,” Hana joked, a mischievous grin sweeping across her face as she hugged Kateri quickly, and then went abruptly serious, “Glad you’re okay!”

“Get us out of paperwork temporally,” Clinton corrected with a half-smile, stepping forward to embrace his partner next. His next sentence was quieter, “Sometimes I think you’re a magnet for trouble, kid.”

There was a play-groan from behind them. _Sounded like Kenny._ “Buzzkill.” _Yep, that’s Kenny_.

Kateri, her face buried in the crook of her partner’s shoulder, gave a snort of laughter, both at her partner’s words and Kenny’s theatrics. “Sometimes, I wonder. Thanks for having my back.”

“Always, kid. Always.”


End file.
